German filmmaker Tilman Singer offers a muddied but atmospheric terror tale in Cuckoo.
Euphoria’s Hunter Schafer plays irritated, grieving final girl Gretchen, who has just moved to upper Bavaria, Germany, with her stepmother Beth (Jessica Henwick), half-sister Alma (Mila Lieu), and her distant father, Luis (Marton Csokas), following the death of her mother. Luis is tasked with redesigning an outdated, wooded resort, owned by the slithering and slimy Herr König (Dan Stevens, having the time of his life while hissing out a squirm-inducing accent and perfect German).
Gretchen begins to notice oddities around the resort. Lethargic women wander into the lobby to vomit all over the floor, König won’t allow anyone to stay in the hotel lobby past 10 P.M., and Gretchen is repeatedly attacked and stalked by a screeching, hooded woman. Luis doesn’t believe Gretchen’s tales of terror, and when Alma suddenly develops seizures, Gretchen is blamed—further fueling her loneliness and anger.
The most effective aspects of Cuckoo are Schafer’s performance and the unexpected poignancy beneath the film’s dizzying narrative. Schafer’s the butterfly-knife-wielding final girl that horror fans dream of—quick-witted, smart, and likable.
Throughout Cuckoo, Gretchen makes calls to her old home phone. Her mother’s voice on the voicemail message, she tells police detective Erik (Konrad Singer), helps her through her grief. Gretchen unleashes her sadness and fear toward her deceased mother, giving us insight into the heart of the strongest final girl since Samara Weaving’s Grace in Ready or Not. Schafer needs to do more horror, ASAP. She’s Cuckoo’s MVP, stealing every scene she’s in.
Stevens, as always, is a formidable and captivating baddie. He doesn’t take himself too seriously and leans into a B-movie mad scientist-type villain, hellbent on controlling the local females’ reproductive cycles.
That’s where Cuckoo struggles—narratively, it can’t seem to choose between being a highly-stylized, disturbing horror flick or a B-rated, slightly silly thriller.
The sinister control of female reproductive health is terrifying as it is, but here—despite the R rating—Singer doesn’t go all the way. The bones to create something terrifying to women are there, but Singer’s explanation is too weird and illogical to be scary.
If Dan Stevens is playing a spooky, evil, womb-controlling freak, let him go crazy. Be disturbing with it! Get gritty and shocking. Show us something chilling and give the man some horrific reasoning for doing what he does to women.
But the big reveal and showdown between Stevens and Schafer is underwhelming and dizzying, purely from a writing standpoint. This unnerving buildup of women being controlled and made sick crashes here and can’t get back up.
But, despite Cuckoo’s narrative shifts and scary shortcomings, it’s an undeniably fun watch with enticing retro aesthetics, an ideal final girl, and just the right amount of gore. It’s a solid, unique entry into 2024’s horror catalog, making for a memorable—if not slightly silly—flick.
Cuckoo
2024
dir. Tilman Singer
103 min.
Opens (on 35mm!) Friday, 8/9 @ Coolidge Corner Theatre
